


Hero

by phalenne



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, its a sentai au lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 21:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11135469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phalenne/pseuds/phalenne
Summary: Genji Shimada is a notorious troublemaker with a passion for mischief. At least, during the day. At night, he dresses like a superhero and strives to undo his family's work.Tekhartha Zenyatta is a yoga instructor and aspiring massage therapist. One night, a hero saves his life. He hasn't been able to get rid of him ever since.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> mmmm I've had the idea for this for quite some time and I'm finally getting around to writing it! i hope this is something everyone is interested in.
> 
> also, please leave some constructive criticism or thoughts regarding my work. I'm always striving for improvement!

Genji glanced over his shoulder one last time as he shot down the street. No one in sight. He let out a sigh of relief and eased his motorcycle into a more acceptable speed. It had been a narrow escape, his heart was still pounding and his limbs were jittery. The quiet, empty, streets helped to calm his nerves. No one was awake at that hour. He was alone.

His saving grace had been the narrow alleyway he had darted through, leaving the Shimada agents behind him to find a different route. For now, he had thrown them off. He didn’t even hear their engines. Though, that could change quickly and Genji knew it. He needed to get his motorcycle and his armor back to the storage unit before he was discovered again. If they caught up to him, Genji wasn’t sure he would be as lucky as last time. They were definitely catching onto him.

With one hand, he grasped at his armor to feel for bullet holes. There were dents that had threatened to become holes, but nothing more. He was extremely grateful for the craftmanship at that moment, but he would definitely have to get the suit mended before he went on any other crime-stopping sprees. The green sentai would have to take a short break. Not that Genji minded. He hadn’t had any good sleep for weeks, and knew he deserved some rest.

Genji turned onto a busier street. His heart began pounding as strong as before, and he found himself checking over his shoulder again and again to watch for any Shimada vehicles. There were none to be found, but that did little to ease his paranoia. He needed to get out of the open.

Even as late as it was, there were a few cars out. Genji rolled up to a stoplight aside a small minivan, and as he glanced at the vehicle, he saw a face in one of the back windows. A wide-eyed little boy with his face pressed against the glass, staring at the hero in wonder. Genji couldn’t help but smile. He offered a small wave, and a wide grin broke out across the child’s face. The last thing he saw before the light turned green was the little boy speaking eagerly to his mother in the front seat. Then, he was taking off again. There was no time to waste.

After that, he decided to take the long route. This side of town was peaceful, even at night when the streets are usually filled with partygoers. There was the occasional person walking, a few lights on in the lofts above the rows of shops. Other than that, the street was silent. Just as he preferred it.

Ironically, what pulled him out of his thoughts was the sound of a gunshot. It was loud, and it was close. He glanced around himself, looking for the source. Dread pooled in his stomach as his gaze landed on a figure sprawled across the sidewalk, clutching its side. Genji slammed on his brakes, jumping from the motorcycle and kneeling next to the figure. It was a man, around his age. His eyes were wide and he looked dazed, his hands clutched feverishly at his side.

“That man took my things,” he sputtered, looking up at Genji with confusion. There was no doubt some recognition in that gaze, but he said nothing more.

Genji lifted the stranger’s hands, noting with much displeasure that his shirt was already soaked with blood. Luckily, the thief had not aimed to kill, but a bullet wound was a bullet wound and the stranger could go into shock at any time.

“Will you go after him?” The stranger asked, gazing past Genji and down the street. He had attempted to sit up, but instead hissed in pain and fell back against the ground. Genji placed a hand on his shoulder to keep him from trying it again.

“He’s already gone. Let’s get you to the hospital.” Genji (with some difficulty), lifted the stranger onto his bike. He climbed on behind him, wrapping one arm around his waist before kicking out the stand and starting down the road.

“No… the money for my rent was in that bag… I need it.” The stranger grabbed Genji’s hand, whether for stability or to get his attention, he wasn’t sure. He could hardly hear his voice over the rushing of the wind anyway.

“I’m not sure that should be your priority right now, sir.” Genji said with a small laugh. Of course this wasn’t really a laughing matter, and he was more nervous than anything.

The stranger either didn’t reply to that, or his voice was too soft to hear. Genji decided it was best to focus on the road anyway, seeing as he only had one hand to steer.

The hospital wasn’t far, but by the time they reached it the stranger was going limp. Genji tugged off one glove and felt his hand, which was already cold and clammy. He was going into shock. Genji parked the motorcycle right outside the doors, pulling the wounded man off and carrying him as close to the door as he could. There, outside, he kneeled down and sat him on the concrete. He doubted he could walk inside without being questioned, but much to his relief they had already garnered some attention and a woman in a lab coat was making her way towards them.

“Sir, wait.” Before Genji could pull away, the stranger grabbed his wrist. “Come visit me, and I will repay you for this. Please. I owe it to you.”

Genji barely had time to nod before the doctor was kneeling next to them, eyeing the sentai with curiosity before turning her attention to the wounded man.

Before anyone could question him, Genji retreated. He hopped onto his motorcycle and drove away, ignoring the protests from a group of nurses who had come to assist. He glanced back once, and then continued on his way.

* * *

 

The next morning, Genji felt like he’d been tossed into a meat grinder. His whole body ached and he was bruised from head to toe.

With a scowl, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. The curtains were drawn, and it was almost noon. A maid had probably come in to try and wake him earlier that morning, but if he had been awake even for a little while he didn’t remember it.

That night had been rough on him, thats for sure. He doubted his family or the staff thought much of it, though. There had been some occasions in which he had come home drunk and slept well into the afternoon. He could probably play off his physical discomfort as a hangover, anyway. Their father wouldn’t mind. He had always been more lenient with Genji than he ever had been with Hanzo, much to his brother’s frustration.

With a groan, Genji closed the curtains before retreating back into bed. Compared to him, the mattress was enormous. He had to crawl to reach the center, where he pulled the thick comforter back over himself. This, he thought, was the epitome of luxury. He wasn’t sure he could live without this bed.

Though, despite his exhaustion, he found it difficult to get back to sleep. He glanced about the darkened room through half-lidded eyes, before allowing his mind to wander.

He dozed like this for maybe half an hour before he heard the door to his room open, then close gently. Genji propped himself up on his elbow to see who had entered. Much to his disappointment, it was Hanzo.

“Father is very disappointed that you did not make it to breakfast. Again.” Hanzo’s eyes were narrow, and he seemed to be studying Genji closely. He hated that look. It was like Hanzo was trying to figure him out.

“Sorry, Hanzo. I’m a little hungover at the moment. I didn’t want to risk puking at the table.” Genji offered him a weak smile, hoping that explanation would be enough to throw him off the scent. Hanzo had acting strange around him lately, and it made him nervous.

“Who did you go out with last night, then? Anyone I know?” That gaze didn’t falter. He was still unconvinced.

“No… a new group. If you are really so interested all of a sudden, perhaps I can introduce you.” Genji said this with a scowl. Hanzo would definitely decline, so he wasn’t worried. His brother was definitely not fond of the people he tended to surround himself with.

“No, thank you.” Hanzo paused and crossed his arms. “Get out of bed sometime today, though. Father will not be pleased if you stay in here.” With that, he left the room. Genji let out a sigh of relief.

He got ready quickly, throwing on some comfortable clothes and going about his morning routine. In front of the mirror he checked his bruises, some of which had turned purple and yellow overnight. He couldn’t let his family see those, especially Hanzo. Their father trusted him, but his brother? His brother was too suspicious. Not that Genji could blame him. Considering what he had been doing, Hanzo had every right to be.

He left his room after making sure all of the bruises were covered. At this time of day, his father would most likely be out for a walk in their gardens. The maids would probably allow him to sneak in and get a snack, but if his father caught him he’d be in trouble for eating after sleeping through breakfast.

So, Genji slinked into the kitchens. He snatched up an apple and leaned against the island, chewing thoughtfully. He began to recall all of the events from the night before. From his mission, to the narrow escape, to the man he had saved in the street. It all seemed so blurry, he had to think hard to remember what the man had looked like.

His eyes were unmistakable. They were a rich brown color, much like Genji’s own. That, though, was about where their similarities had ended. The stranger had darker skin, and was considerably thinner beneath the loose clothing he had been wearing that night. He had also been cleanly shaven, including his head. It was an interesting look. Not something common in Hanamura, where fashion and appearances were a part of the culture. He wasn’t a tourist, though. He had mentioned rent money.

That realization made Genji’s heart ache. That man would be coming out of the hospital with bills, and no money for housing. Though, that had given Genji an idea. Perhaps he could send him some cash? Or, perhaps not. That would be overdoing it right? He’d never done that with anyone else before. He couldn’t have everyone he saved expecting cash from him. But at the same time…

Genji pondered this for quite a while, finishing his food slowly. He continued to think until he heard someone clear their throat. He stood up straight, recognizing his father standing there.

“Good morning, father.” Genji said this with a slight bow.

“Good morning.” Sojiro Shimada spent a few moments looking his son over. He had that same look as Hanzo. “There will be a meeting immediately, and I expect you to attend. If you are not there, I will be extremely disappointed. Do you understand?” There was some irritation in his tone, which set Genji on edge.

“I understand. I will be there.” He knew exactly what this meeting would be about, and he dreaded it. Though, he supposed that was what came with being a hero. Consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, if anyone is interested, my overwatch tumblr is bi-sombra. i do some more writing there (INCLUDING WRITING REQUESTS!), as well as occasionally posting art.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything that had happened the night before was an absolute blur. Zenyatta remembered being confronted by the thief, but the actual moment that he had been shot seemed to be missing from his memory. The next thing he knew, the mysterious man had been hovering over him. His savior, if he wanted to seem dramatic.

He remembered the wind whipping at his face as they rode to the hospital, and how he had rambled nearly incoherently into the stranger’s ear as he was clutched to his chest. That part was more than a little embarrassing. Zenyatta prided himself on being well spoken, and even as if language barriers weren’t enough, it was a poor first impression. Well, the getting shot and bleeding out all over the stranger didn’t help much either. For a meeting with a public figure, it definitely could have gone better.

He might as well be considered a public figure anyway. By then, the hero was well known in Hanamura and the surrounding towns. For the past month he had been patrolling the streets at night in that over-the-top green motorcycle, and as it seemed, he had been involved in unraveling a few grander schemes as well.

According to the news, on the same night that Zenyatta had been rescued, this anonymous person had tipped police off on an illegal fight club, and had aided with the capture and arrests of everyone involved. The details were... especially haunting. There, in the ring, stolen children had been forced to fight to the death for the entertainment of a large group of social elites. Nearly all of them had been arrested, but there were rumors that another, unknown, party had been involved.

Nonetheless, the missing children cases had been open for nearly half a year, with the police unable to track any of them down. Whoever the sentai was, he must have been following the cases for quite some time. That was not something that you simply did in one night.

At first, before any of this news, Zenyatta had never thought much of the sentai’s actions. Though it had amused him in the beginning. The resemblance of the costume to a few children’s shows was rather cute, in his opinion.

Though now, after actually meeting this man and hearing of his actions, he was more interested than amused. There was definitely a certain mystery about him, and he was definitely not a joke. Without even looking at his recent achievement, the way he had conveniently appeared out of nowhere the exact moment Zenyatta had been shot was something of pure luck on his part. The sentai had also barely spoken to him, despite Zenyatta’s feverish ramblings. He had even left him out on the sidewalk, presumably to avoid being bombarded with questions about his identity. Zenyatta remembered briefly feeling frustrated, but that all disappeared when he had been carried inside. Actually, he think he might have fallen asleep or fainted.

In any case, this man had not left his mind all day. Even when he attempted to meditate (which was already difficult, as he could not sit up yet), thoughts of him would always find their way into his head. It really wasn’t like him to be so distracted, so he often tried to shift his focus to other things.

One of those being the details of the theft. There had been police earlier, asking him if he could describe the offender. No real luck there. He had been wearing a baseball cap and plain clothing, but had no distinguishing features. Zenyatta really didn’t recognize him. So, all he could wonder was how the stranger knew he had that money in his bag. Perhaps he would never know.

It was a possibility that the thief had been a client in the past, maybe he had heard Zenyatta speaking of the money. Over the past month, his class had gotten quite large and he was having trouble remembering all of the faces that would come and go.

For the time being, his main concern was keeping his business. He was fortunate enough to live above a dance studio, and he used said studio for his yoga lessons. If he was extra lucky, perhaps the owners would understand his situation. Besides, he was a man of his word, and he had proven it again and again over the course of his stay in Hanamura. Due to his reliability and their kindness, he would maybe even call the owners his friends. They often chatted when Zenyatta went to pay for his reserved time in the studio, and had become relatively close.

So far, they had been staunch advocates for his growing yoga classes, often recommending it to their friends and coworkers, and were a source of encouragement for his other goals. Currently, Zenyatta was getting his certifications for massage therapy. He was quite lucky to have such a support system, and he didn’t think he would ever be able to take that for granted.

“Zenyatta?” Hearing his name dragged him from his thoughts. A nurse had entered his room, and she knocked gently on the doorframe.

“Hm?” He glanced over at her. It was the same nurse who had stayed with him the night before. They had talked quite a bit.

“A man stopped by with these.” She approached him, revealing from behind her a rose with an envelope clipped to it. There was a small smile on her face.

Zenyatta furrowed his brow and pursed his lips as he took the gifts from her. Who could they be from? Gently, he unclipped the rose from the envelope and tore it open.

Money. There was money inside. A note, too.

“Is it a love interest maybe?” She sat at the foot of his bed, taking the rose and looking at it again.

“Did you see who brought these gifts?” Zenyatta asked as he took out the note.

“No, these were passed onto me by another nurse. She said he wanted to stay anonymous. Why? Are you worried about it?” She laid the rose back on the bed.

Zenyatta took a few more moments to read over the note, before smiling and shaking his head. “No, I am not worried at all. Thank you for delivering these to me.”

He had a brief conversation with the nurse before he left him to his own devices. Zenyatta took that time to count the money that he had been given. It was enough to pay for his rent, and more. Of course, he felt guilty. He hadn’t done a single thing to deserve this money.

He picked up the note again, skimming over it carefully. The money was a gift from the sentai… or so the note said. It had been written in black pen, and the handwriting was very neat. Zenyatta’s japanese wasn’t great by any stretch of the imagination, but he could read it with ease.

In the note, he briefly explained that meeting him face to face was risky, but that he hoped Zenyatta enjoyed his gifts. The wording was unmistakably flirtatious. Well, what little wording there was. The note was quite short and relatively concise. Still, it intrigued him. It was a glimpse at the sentai’s personality.

At that, he folded the note back up and stashed it safely in the envelope. He would definitely keep that close.

* * *

 

A little over a week went by. Zenyatta was healing quickly, and he had been able to go home. He was well enough to attend his classes, but his yoga lessons were on hiatus.

Most days, Zenyatta went about his business feeling deep aches and pains. Though, his life was a busy one, and he could not afford to put everything on hold any longer. The pain would have to do.

For the entire week he had been in the hospital, he would watch the news once or twice a day, looking for any reports of the sentai’s activities. For that entire week, there was little to nothing. His interest had begun to diminish quickly, and though there was still that faint curiosity, he was able to put the events out of his mind. It was unlikely that he would meet the hero again, let alone unravel any of the mysteries surrounding him, so he was content to just live as he had before.

Unfortunately, that included going home from classes late at night. Hanamura was a huge city. There were pickpockets everywhere, especially near bus stops and on any public transportation. Almost everything valuable that Zenyatta owned (which wasn’t much) had been looted off of him at some point. Most of it during his first few months in Japan, in which he hadn’t adjusted to the city lifestyle. Though, Zenyatta was hardly materialistic and this barely bothered him. What did bother him, however, was the idea that the last of his gifted money could be stolen. He kept the satchel containing his money and his books close, resting it on his lap as he waited for the bus.

Not minutes after thinking this, he heard a shout from down the sidewalk and the loud slapping of shoes hitting the pavement. He was having trouble understanding the slurred shouts, but he could certainly make out the words “my fucking wallet”. A young boy sped past the bus stop, followed by an extremely inebriated older man.

Before Zenyatta could do anything to stop him, he was startled by the sound of a motorcycle engine revving, and then a green blur. There was a moment of recognition for Zenyatta, but all he could do was sit and watch.

The rider swerved onto the sidewalk, blocking the path of the young boy. No one was surprised upon recognizing the man sitting there.

Hastily, the sentai snatched the boy by the sleeve and took the wallet from him. Without a second thought, he tossed the item to the older man and screeched back down the road. It happened so quickly, it was almost as if it hadn’t happened at all.

The witnesses stood and watched, dazed and confused, before slowly returning to their walking and waiting. It seemed the sentai was in a hurry tonight. For Zenyatta, this caused a feeling of unease. Perhaps he would be seeing more of his savior than he first thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bluhh here's some filler explaining zenyatta's feelings about the whole ordeal.
> 
> i was honestly wanting to rewrite this whole chapter, considering i cranked it out so fast and I'm not really proud of it. but here it is anyway, bc I'm kind of lazy.
> 
> the next chapter will probably be more eventful, this one was basically more to set the scene and get some plot.
> 
> as usual though, please contact me if you have any constructive criticism. i really want to improve and become more confident in my writing.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hanzo, it is so rare for you to agree to come out with me. You’re not dying are you?” Genji chuckled around a mouthful of food. It was the first real thing he had said to his brother since they left the estate earlier that morning.

Genji had been absolutely exhausted from the past week, where he had been out almost every single night until the early hours. The night before was the first night he had allowed himself to rest, and the walk was the first time in a long while that he had gone out just to go out. Much to his surprise, his brother had decided to join him.

Hanzo replied to Genji’s comment with an amused scoff, and pushed around his food with his chopsticks. They had been sitting quietly on a garden step, people watching and admiring the flowers as they ate their cheap takeout noodles. Not exactly befitting the heirs of a wealthy criminal empire, but sometimes you had to enjoy the simple things.

“Unfortunately for you, I am not.” Hanzo set his food aside, and crossed his arms in his lap. He looked to be thinking awfully hard, and Genji watched him with curiosity.

“Don’t say that, Hanzo. You know you’re my favorite sibling.” This elicited a chuckle from the eldest, and Genji couldn’t help but smile too. It was so rare for them to get along like that, let alone exchange sentiments. It felt nice. However, the conversation seemed to flatline after this and the silence became long and awkward. Hanzo, again, began to think hard.

“You seem distracted, brother. Is something on your mind?” Genji set aside his food as well, suddenly feeling tense.

It was a few moments before Hanzo replied, and his voice was flat. “How do you feel about these recent acts of sabotage against our family, Genji?” He said it low, eyes flicking from place to place as he made sure nobody had been able to hear him.

“You mean the sentai?” He paused, attempting to calmly come up with an answer that would satisfy his brother. “I think we need to find him, and we need to stop him before he causes any more trouble.”

Another pause. Genji began to feel that this was some kind of mind game, and they were both tiptoeing around their own kind of truth.

“You do not think it is strange that he knows so much about our operations? Even more confusing, why he has not exposed our family yet?” Hanzo’s tone had turned icy. “What is his motive? He could have destroyed us long ago, and yet he has not. It is almost as if he does not want the world to know who we really are. Now why would that be?” Genji felt as if he was being interrogated. Hanzo was staring directly at him, and though his voice was still soft, his aggression was unmistakable.

“What are you trying to say?” Genji found it difficult to keep his uneasiness from becoming apparent in his voice. His palms were sweaty and he felt crowded all of a sudden. He wanted nothing more than to be away from his brother in that moment.

“I think you have something to do with it. I don’t know what yet, but when I found out… you will regret it.” Hanzo’s words filled Genji with dread.

“How could you say that? I would never go against the family.” Genji surprised himself with the solidness of that statement, and he felt himself regain some confidence.

“You have given me no reason to believe that.”

“Hanzo. I love father, and I love you. Why would I ever intentionally put you at risk?” After that, there was silence for a while. The words had sounded clumsy and unpracticed, as they definitely were, but Genji’s sincerity must have shone through regardless.

As the silence drew on, Hanzo seemed to deflate. All aggression in his expression had disappeared with those words, and he just seemed… tired. So, so tired.

“I am going home.” With that, Hanzo stood. Though Genji quickly joined him, the eldest avoided eye contact like the plague. “Do not stay out late tonight. I am already suspicious enough of you.” Without another word, Hanzo left. He had left his food behind, and after watching him go, Genji decided to dump both meals. Besides, he was feeling too nauseous to continue eating.

There was no way he could go back home after that awkward exchange, either. Not when there was a chance that he could run into Hanzo and make it all worse. He pondered this for a while, deciding to stroll through the garden, though he hardly focused on the flowers. He decided on one of the most comforting places he knew. There was nothing that soothed him like the nostalgia of a comic book store, and there was one within walking distance. They had been close enough to downtown Hanamura, anyway.

 

* * *

  

The walk had been oddly relaxing. It was rush hour and the energy of the streets had helped to distract him, and the activity felt nice. His muscles ached from his missions the previous week, but the small exercise had soothed them to an extent.

He was walking down a small side road, then. A few more blocks and he would be at his destination. This road seemed familiar, though he couldn’t recall ever traveling it much. He was sure it would come back to him sooner or later. 

It was with a start that he noticed a familiar face inside one of the shops. Well, it wasn’t even technically a shop. A board in the window identified this as a studio, and sitting at the counter was the man from a little over a week ago. The man that Genji had saved. He was sitting on a stool, playing on his phone while a few children ran around in the back.

Without really thinking, Genji stepped inside the studio. The stranger looked up, quickly pocketing the phone and smiling over at him.

“Good evening, sir.” His voice sounded different, though that must have been a given. He wasn’t bleeding out all over the sidewalk at the moment.

“Ah, good evening.” Genji approached the counter, suddenly feeling exceptionally nervous.

He couldn’t stop looking at the stranger’s face, for one. He must not have gotten a good look at him before, because it was just hitting him that… this man was actually relatively attractive. Not in an entirely conventional manner, but Genji still found his face to be quite striking. His features were sharp, and he had defined cheekbones and full lips. His face was about the extent of his attractive features, however. He was also quite lanky, as Genji had noticed before. While both standing they must have been around the same height, but this stranger was considerably thinner. While muscular for his size, he was still kind of scrawny.

His clothes didn’t help, as he wore a tight tanktop and a pair of long harem pants. Both articles of clothing seemed aged, and as comfortable as it looked, it did him no favors. Genji believed strongly in the importance of one’s appearance, and always did the most to make himself look immaculate. The idea that others did not was rather off-putting.

“If you are here to sign up for dance or yoga, I can help you here.” He pulled a worn book from beneath the counter, then glanced up at Genji again as he waited for a reply. That reply took a while, as he tried to think of a way to politely decline. Why did he even come? Yoga was for middle aged women and he didn't care to dance.

Eventually, as Genji seemed to be contemplating, the stranger flipped open the book and skimmed through it. “Our dance classes are almost full, however we have an opening in salsa dancing at 6:00 on Tuesdays.” He paused, before adding, “my yoga classes will also be resuming next week.” It was an attempt to fill the awkward silence, but it gave Genji the answer he needed. This stranger was an instructor apparently, and Genji was impressed that he would be resuming just two weeks after being shot.

“Is there a yoga class for beginners? I’ve… never done it before.” Genji wasn’t even sure why he was asking. He didn’t really want to do yoga.

Perhaps some part of him was interested in this other man. It might have been the thrill of possibly saving someone’s life that was getting to him… but he wanted to know more. What kind of person had he rescued? Was he a good person or a bad person? Did he have a family that would have missed him if he had died out on that sidewalk? He seemed too young to be a father, but you could never really tell. Maybe he had a child, or a little brother or sister. Genji wanted to know it all. Or, at least have some idea of this man’s character. It was important to him.

“Of course, most of my classes are beginner friendly.” As he said this, he tore off a sticky note and began writing. He scribbled down a time and a place, as well as his name and number, then passed it to Genji. So, his name was Zenyatta. 

They spoke briefly about the price of the classes and the location, as Genji rarely visited that part of town. It was surprising how informal the process was, but Genji wasn’t complaining. Zenyatta was obviously new to Japan, he probably just hadn’t carved out a place for himself yet. Genji felt lucky that he had never had to go through anything like that.

Genji made a mental note that he would try and attend the classes on Mondays. Once a week couldn’t be too bad, and Mondays were usually pretty dead anywhere else. In the bars and arcades especially, which was where Genji liked to spend a lot of his time. What was the worst that could happen anyways, besides embarrassment? His family and friends could not know that he was doing it, for sure. Especially his friends. They would give him so much shit.

“Thank you for signing up, I hope I see you sometime.” Zenyatta’s voice drew Genji from his thoughts. He had finished writing down his information (and much to his surprise, didn’t seem to recognize his name), and was smiling up at him endearingly. Genji did have to admit, he had a very pretty face, especially with that smile.

 

“Yeah, you can count on it.” Genji returned the smile gladly, before saying his goodbyes and exiting the studio. As soon as he was out of Zenyatta’s line of sight, he allowed himself to breath a relieved sigh. For some odd reason, that had caused him to feel a bit giddy, but more happy than anything. Zenyatta… was someone that he had saved. Someone who had benefitted from him. Sure, he had helped lots of people before, but he had never had the opportunity to speak with them. There was something about this that he needed. It was more fulfilling than anything else that he had ever felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmm setting up for some more interesting things :3c


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you @ everyone who has commented on this, it's really my only incentive to continue and i appreciate every one!

Waves of heat blasted against Genji’s suit as he sped through the rafters, dodging columns of flame that had begun to climb closer and closer to the roof. He made his escape through one of the wide skylights, where bullets from the previous struggle had already busted through the glass. The perfect escape route. 

It was summer and the air was still, offering little relief from the overwhelming warmth inside the building. Setting the warehouse ablaze had not been part of the plan, that was for sure. Genji wasn’t even sure how the fire had started, but it ended the fight quickly. The doors had been locked, trapping the men and women inside as the inferno spread.

His gut twisted as he briefly imagined how many people had just been killed… criminals, as they were, but still people. Some of them Shimada agents. As much as this thought made him ache, he knew he needed it. Becoming desensitized to death was necessary, if he decided to continue to live this way. At that point, it would be hard to just quit anyway. He had to do this.

Genji shook his head, tearing his gaze from the broken skylight beneath him. Staying did nothing for him, and the authorities would be showing up soon. He wanted to be out of there long before that happened. He could grieve once he was somewhere safer. Snuggled in bed, preferably.

As he turned to leave, he was suddenly stopped by the shriek of metal and then a blade pressing against his throat. Panic coursed through him, and yet he remained still and quiet. A few seconds passed this way, where the only sounds were that of Genji’s labored breathing and the crackling of flames below. The attacker behind him was absolutely silent.

“Remove the mask.”

Shivers ran up Genji’s spine at the sound of Hanzo’s voice. For a few more moments he was still, frantically trying to think of some solution to this. The blade pressed more forcefully, causing Genji to hiss.

“The mask, or your head. Choose quickly.” Hanzo’s voice was like Genji had never heard it before. Perhaps it was the situation, but in his life he had never wanted to tune out his brother’s voice more than in that moment. 

“Quickly, I said.” Again, the blade pressed harshly against Genji’s adams apple. He fought the natural urge to choke.

Slowly, Genji reached with one hand towards his helmet. It was with unsure fingers that he began undoing the clasps that connected his helmet to the rest of his suit. He hovered over the last clasp for a few seconds. How would Hanzo react if he saw his face? In that moment, he wasn’t sure it would change anything. His brother might just kill him anyway.

What he did next, he did without thinking. He grabbed the end of the sword, wrenching it from Hanzo’s grip and sending it flying across the roof of the warehouse. For a few brief moments, both brothers watched in complete shock as it slid to a halt several feet away from them. This didn’t last long, and in a moment both boys sprung into action. 

Hanzo threw an arm around Genji’s neck, yanking him backwards as an attempt to throw him off of his feet. The youngest stumbled back, shifting his weight just so that he could remain standing as they continued to struggle. While his right hand scratched feverishly at Hanzo’s arm, his left grabbed for the short sword sheathed behind his back. Hanzo battled him for the sword, but both of their movements were clumsy and unsure. It was like they were hesitating at the same time, and neither was sure just how far to take it.

Eventually, Genji wrestled the blade from the sheath and sliced at his brother with one forceful slash. Hanzo fell back, hitting the roof hard and letting out a few shouted curses. Genji went back with him, landing roughly against Hanzo’s chest. It was then that Genji was able to escape his grip and scramble to his feet. A few moments later, he was gone. He hadn’t even looked back at Hanzo once before disappearing over the edge of the roof and into the woods beyond.

It sounded too quiet after that. All that Genji could hear was the slapping of his own boots against the ground and the thrumming of the cicadas all around him. It was like this for quite a while. Genji listened, paranoid that he would soon hear the sound of his brother pursuing him.

It wasn’t until he was a good distance into the trees, so far that he could no longer hear the fire roaring, that he finally stopped running, tossing off his helmet and crouching down to catch his breath. He was breathing so hard, half sobbing and half gasping, and he attempted to cover his mouth to make his heaving quieter. 

What had he done? Genji didn’t want to hurt Hanzo, but he had seen no other choice. He wasn’t even sure what the extent of the damage was. He hadn’t been able to look. His heart ached, and he was wracked with more heavy sobs as he imagined how badly he must have injured his brother, to the extent that he could not pursue him. Why hadn’t he just taken off the mask? Surely Hanzo wouldn’t have really hurt him… they were brothers after all. This thought stuck with him for the following moments, as he finished catching his breath.

Eventually Genji went to rub his eye, but found that his glove had been splayed open and that he had smeared a dark, warm, substance across one side of his face. Shakily, he pulled off the glove and peered down at the long gash running across his palm and fingers. He hadn’t noticed at the time, but the blade had sliced right through the thick material when he had grabbed it. As the realization hit him, he began to feel the painful throbbing in his palm. He needed to get to a hospital for stitches, but not before he changed out of the suit. Already he felt woozy.

With his goal in mind, Genji wiped away his tears with the back of his good hand and got to his feet again. His motorcycle was hidden about a mile away, but he doubted he would have to worry about being followed. The police were probably at the warehouse, or close by, and nobody in their right mind would go lurking around when there was the risk of being caught. That knowledge made the trek back much, much easier.

 

* * *

 

The rest of that night and the next morning had been emotionally taxing, to say the least. Genji had visited a smaller clinic to sew up his hand. This particular doctor knew not to say anything to his family if he ever came in injured. Let’s just say, it wasn’t a rare occurrence for Genji to get into trouble when he was intoxicated.

By the time his business at the clinic was done, the sun was already rising and his desire to go home was at an all time low. Needless to say, he kept himself busy around town. A few drinks early in the morning, followed by a couple of hours people watching in the park.

It was a little after noon that he received a message from his personal butler. Hanzo had spent the night at the hospital, but he was home now and he was doing fine. This put Genji’s mind at ease. He responded quickly, asking what had happened and if he needed to come home. The conversation ended soon after, with the butler offering a vague explanation and stated that Hanzo had asked to be left alone anyway. Some part of Genji was glad that he could put off seeing his brother for a few more hours, but he was also filled with worry and guilt.

At least he hadn’t seriously injured him. According to the explanation by the butler, Hanzo had received a long, shallow cut along his thigh and abdomen. It sounded about right, but Genji felt sick at the idea that he had come close to literally gutting his brother.

He had also been curious as to how it had happened the way that it did. The brothers had trained together often. Hanzo was not exactly known for his mercy. So why, then, had he shown obvious hesitation? Searching for a solution left Genji with a headache. He would definitely come back to that. 

As he was putting his phone back into his pocket, he felt it vibrate again. A reminder this time, that he had a yoga class later that day. He groaned, dragging his good hand across his face. It was Monday, wasn’t it? Yoga was the last thing he wanted to do right then. He was bruised and bloody, and he had gotten no sleep whatsoever. At the same time, he knew he should go. He couldn’t start making excuses not to go, or he’d never do it. Besides, maybe some quality social interaction was just what he needed to lift his mood. He just needed to pass the time until he could get there, which thankfully wasn’t long.

What little remained of the day was spent mulling about the arcade. It was a good distraction, but he was beginning to feel a little bit too big to be spending hours and hours there. The few adults that did were… questionable, to say the least. He didn’t want to be lumped in with those kinds of people. So, when he did leave, he did so gladly. The empty streets were a welcome break from the loud, cluttered building.

He made his way to the class then, and on his way he even found that he wasn’t dreading it as much. Instead, he was focusing on the fact that he might get some time to speak with Zenyatta. He just needed to figure out how to approach a conversation without seeming creepy. Genji wasn’t worried, though. Socializing wasn’t ever hard for him, he could find a way. 

The class met in one of the larger city parks, beneath a grove of short shade trees. As Genji arrived, everyone seemed to be standing around and talking as they waited. There were over a dozen people there, which was about what he had expected. What did surprise him was the diversity of the group. As he approached, he noticed that there was a wide range of ages and ethnicities. He’d expected mainly middle aged women, but there were a few men and boys, as well as more foreign people. He could make out some thicker accents aside from just Zenyatta’s.

The instructor noticed Genji and waved him over with a smile. He had been standing with someone else, but they had moved on.

“Genji, correct? I am glad to see that you could make it.”

“Of course. I told you I’d be here.” He happily returned Zenyatta’s smile.

Zenyatta quickly took the yoga mat that he had been holding and offered it to Genji. “I wasn’t sure if you would have one, so I brought mine. I will not be able to use it for a few more weeks, and the grass will itch.”

“Oh, thank you. I didn’t even consider it.” Genji took the mat, suddenly a little embarrassed at his lack of foresight.

The conversation was short and brief, as Zenyatta then went to speak with a few of his other new students. Genji was surprised that he had been able to keep track of everyone.

The class started not long after this and everyone began laying out their mats in the grass. Genji took a spot near the back, where hopefully he would draw less attention. He wasn’t expecting to look graceful his first time anyway, and he was still sore from the night before. 

Zenyatta took a moment to explain that he would not be demonstrating anything that day, or for a few more classes. He was still recovering from his injury, and the stretching was painful. Genji didn’t doubt it. Instead, he would be walking around and helping to correct posture and stance while one of his more experienced students demonstrated the poses. The student was introduced, and the class began.

The first few stretches weren’t all that hard, and Genji found that they actually began to soothe his aching muscles. Though, they did progressively become more complicated and demanding and he found himself struggling to keep up. His hand, covered only in a thin layer of gauze, was beginning to ache and throb. He took a few breaks here and there, allowing his wounds to stop hurting before trying again. 

The class lasted about an hour or so, but the time did seem to fly by. It really hadn’t been as bad as he thought, despite his aches and pains. He might have even enjoyed it. Admittedly, he had spent more time watching Zenyatta than focusing on the substitute instructor. He had wandered from person to person, correcting their posture with gentle touches. For the most part he hadn’t come around to Genji, which was surprising considering he had no idea what he was doing half of the time. There had been a few moments where he had wandered by, whispered a suggestion, and then moved on.

That was the kind of vibe that Genji had been getting from Zenyatta so far. Despite his shabby appearance, he spoke and acted gently, and with refinement. It was the way Genji’s tutors had encouraged him to act, though he had never really done so.

Genji pondered this as he rolled up his mat, being sure to wipe away any bugs or grass clippings that may have found their way onto it. He picked Zenyatta out and approached him, thanking him sheepishly for the mat. 

Zenyatta just chuckled and shook his head. “As long as I do not need it, you are free to borrow it. It would just be sitting at home gathering dust otherwise.” He paused, briefly scanning Genji with his eyes. “I noticed that you were having some difficulty, and you seem to be in some pain.” His tone had shifted to one of curiosity, and he motioned to Genji’s injured hand.

“Oh, this is nothing. I cut my hand on a kitchen knife, is all.” He laughed and shook his head, gently running his thumb across his palm.

“Oh? You wouldn’t think that one of the richest men in Japan would be in the habit of preparing his own meals.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and he shot Genji a cheeky grin.

Genji was a bit taken aback by the comment, but Zenyatta did have a point. There was an entire kitchen staff inside the mansion that prepared every meal. This, and Zenyatta hadn’t seemed to realize that Genji was rich when they first met. At least, if he had known, he hadn’t shown it. Most people commented on it when they recognized the last name. It was actually rare to find someone who would disregard something like that.

Though, he had been more impressed with Zenyatta’s ability to pick up on the lie than anything. Genji was pretty good at lying, anyway.

“Maybe I just like to cook,” Genji offered testily.

“Maybe.” Zenyatta never lost that sly smile. This was obviously amusing for him.

“May I see?” Zenyatta set the yoga mat down next to the rest of his things, and held both hands out towards Genji. Hesitantly, he allowed the other man to observe his palm. Zenyatta unwrapped the gauze just enough to get a glimpse at the wound, and then bound it again.

“Well, in my professional opinion, you should be more careful while you’re… cooking. You should be resting as well, and allowing this to heal. Why did you come today?” Zenyatta cocked his head, looking from Genji’s hand to meet his eyes.

“I don’t know. I just… wanted to, I suppose.” Zenyatta was quiet for a while after that, and Genji was wondering if he accepted that answer. From what he was gathering, this man was much more intelligent than Genji was giving him credit for.

“I see. Well, you are free to keep coming, just try not to overdo it. It would be a shame if you injured yourself further.”

“Yes, of course. I know my limits.” Genji ended the statement with a confident nod.

“Good.” Zenyatta paused for a moment. “You are interesting, Genji. I do hope to see you at more of my lessons. 

For some reason, that statement made Genji’s stomach flip. “Wait. Unless you have plans, would you like to go for a walk with me? I would love to keep talking.” It was an awkward and clumsy invitation, which was unusual for him. He wasn’t sure why this nervousness was striking him so suddenly.

Zenyatta nodded, grabbing his backpack from the ground and securing the yoga mat inside as best he could. “I would love to walk with you. I have completed all of my errands today, anyway.”

Genji was filled with relief. Zenyatta hadn’t seemed deterred by his awkwardness at all.

Zenyatta said his goodbyes to his remaining students, received a few hugs, and then turned to Genji. The topic of conversation changed quickly, and they began walking with no real destination in mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah so here's a super rushed filler chapter omg.
> 
> sorry this took a little longer than it should have. i've been kind of busy lately with a lot of unpleasant things. i've also been rewriting the entire outline, but i still wanted to post something new so i came up with this idea and kind of just slammed my hands against the keyboard and hoped for the best lmao??? it's not great, but i hope by rewriting the outline the story will improve as a whole.

Zenyatta stared into his half full cup of tea. The summer heat was baring down on him, and the warmth of the tea hadn’t been helping much. He set the cup aside and sunk lower in his chair. The air conditioning in his loft was broken. On top of it all, this was the hottest summer he had ever experienced. The climate here was much, much different than it was in the mountains. He almost missed with the chilly corridors of the monastery. Sometimes so cold that you could see your own breath.

As a child, he and the other children would often play in the snow and pretend to be dragons, breathing smoke to warm each other. Zenyatta wondered what kind of games the children of Hanamura played, as he couldn’t imagine running around and playing pretend in this kind of weather. They were probably used to it though.

Now, Zenyatta had never envied the rich, but he was wondering what it must have been like in Genji’s air conditioned mansion at that moment.

His thoughts shifted to Genji, then. They had gone for a walk the night before. Not just any walk though, they had talked for /hours/. As soon as they had gotten tired of walking, they found a place to sit and continued talking. It was… nice. Genji was, for the most part, rather kind. He did have the attitude of a rich boy, though, and spoke openly about his opinions regarding appearance and social status. Zenyatta felt that those words may have been aimed at him somewhat, in a rather indirect and passive aggressive way. That was something that he could overlook, though. Changing his appearance wasn’t something that he was interested in anyway, and especially not to please someone else. If someone truly valued your friendship, they wouldn’t care about such trivial things.

Zenyatta did also have to admit that Genji was charming, despite this. He certainly had a way with words. So much so, that Zenyatta had been able to listen to him ramble about himself for so long without falling out of interest. Well, he was an interesting character anyway. It wasn’t a surprise that he was so popular with your everyday person. Unlike his brother, Genji was well known and well liked by just about everyone. Zenyatta had heard a lot about him since moving to Japan. Rumors and gossip and the ramblings of lovesick girls on the bus. He was notoriously flirtatious, and it wasn’t rare to run into him if you were to wander through his part of town. As it seemed, plenty of young women used this to their advantage.

After speaking to him for so long, there was no doubt in Zenyatta’s mind that these rumors were mostly true. He wasn’t exactly an open book, but he laid a lot of his life out for others to see. An interesting quality for someone coming from such a private and guarded family.

So, needless to say, Genji was interesting. Despite the fact that he had basically laid his entire life story out for Zenyatta as they had talked, there was something about him that didn’t add up. Zenyatta didn’t have the slightest clue what it could be, but his interest had been caught. He wasn’t exactly a nosy person, but if the answer happened to reveal itself to him, he wouldn’t be complaining. Nobody was as happy and carefree as Genji liked to make himself appear.

Now that Genji was on his mind, Zenyatta felt he would have a hard time focusing on anything else. He reached by his cup of tea to grab his phone from the table. Genji had said the night before that Zenyatta could text him if he ever wanted to chat. Maybe he could do that now.

He spent a few minutes carefully typing out a message, being sure that his Japanese was as correct as possible.

 

_ To: Genji Shimada _

_ Good evening. How is your hand today? _

 

That was fine, right? He sent the message anyway and was reaching for his tea again when he got a response. That fast?

 

_ From: Genji Shimada _

_ Not much better, but it hasn’t been hurting. Feeling super lucky to be right handed right now. What’s up with you? _

 

That was a lot of words that Zenyatta was having trouble understanding. He took a while to type out his reply.

 

_ To: Genji Shimada _

_ I am fine today. _

_ I’m sorry, my spoken Japanese is better. _

 

_ From: Genji Shimada _

_ Ahh that’s okay. Would you like to call? _

 

Before Zenyatta could really respond, Genji was calling him. Sheepishly, Zenyatta greeted him into the phone and murmured another apology.

“Don’t worry about it! Talking is way easier anyway.” There was a sound like rustling from Genji’s side, like rolling around in fresh sheets.

“Thank you for understanding. I really need to practice my Japanese more. I will need it for work.” Zenyatta sighed at that. There was so much he had to do. Often, he wondered if leaving the monastery was the best thing that he could have done.

“The yoga classes?” Genji asked curiously. Zenyatta remembered then that he had barely talked about himself during their walk. There was still a lot about him that Genji didn’t know.

“Massage therapy. I am getting my license currently.”

“Oooh any chance you could practice on me?” There was something unmistakably flirtatious about his tone, and he followed this with a small laugh. This elicited an amused snort from Zenyatta. 

“If you plan on paying me, then by all means. Call the school to make an appointment, but be sure to mention me or they will pair you with one of the other students.” Zenyatta wasn’t really expecting Genji to do it, but he threw the idea out there. A little extra money for food wouldn’t hurt. 

“Sure. Text me the name of the school later.” 

The two talked for a quite a while longer about little, meaningless things. Genji did seem more interested in what Zenyatta had to say than he had the night before, which was a tad surprising. Maybe he was feeling guilty for talking his ear off the day before. Not that Zen really minded. He was a good listener.

Eventually, the topic shifted to something significantly more interesting.

“The sentai saved you once?” Genji seemed shocked, which was a reasonable reaction. Zenyatta would have been surprised to hear it, too.

“He did, though it is not a very interesting story.” Zenyatta, suddenly feeling restless at the memory, stood and began wandering absentmindedly around the apartment. His fingers ghosted gently over the wound on his abdomen, which was still not fully healed.

“Surely it has to be! You should tell me. If you’re comfortable, I mean.”

“Hmm. Well, I was walking home from my evening classes, as I do most nights. I had stopped by a few stores, so it was a bit later than I would normally get home. I was carrying with me the last of the money I had saved. I spoke about it to one of my students in a class the day before, and I can only assume that my attacker had overheard. There was quite a bit of money there, and I had planned to pay my rent with it. Enough for this month, and the next two months.” Zenyatta paused there for a moment 

“Yeah? And he shot you?” Genji urged Zen to continue.

“Yes. The sentai found me moments later, and carried me to the hospital.” He paused again, but only for a few moments this time. “I was a mess. It was embarrassing.”

“He probably didn’t think anything of it,” Genji replied quickly. There was more shuffling sounds on his end as he spoke.

“The strangest part was that he paid back the rent, and more…” Zen pondered that for a while. He hadn’t thought about it too deeply at the time, he was just grateful that he had gotten the money back. It was definitely odd.

“He sounds like a really generous guy.” Again, Genji spoke quickly, as if he was trying to pick the conversation back up as soon as he could.

“I think so. This world needs more people like that. People that do difficult things, and make the hard choices, for the betterment of others, and for no personal gain. Not even recognition. It is something that I respect greatly.” Zenyatta’s chest ached at the idea of him. It was a foreign feeling, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Genji was quiet for a while after that, and the quiet shuffling had stopped. “It does seem admirable, now that I think about it that way. So you would like to meet him again, then?”

“In all honesty, I am not sure. I have things that I would like to say, and questions to ask, but no real way to convey it all. I would rather not embarrass myself further.” Zenyatta seated himself on the edge of his bed, running his hand across his thin sheets.

“I don’t think you would. You are very well spoken.”

“Well, I did say I was unsure. As long as my life is not in danger this time, I feel like it could be pleasant. Though, I am sure there are better things he could be doing with his time.” Zen laughed unsurely at that.

“He’s probably not as busy as you think,” Genji said, laughing as well. “He would probably be happy to meet you and hear what you have to say. I mean, I’m just guessing, but I don’t doubt it. 

“Perhaps. I doubt it will happen anyway, so I will not dwell.” Zen fell back on the bed, letting out a sigh.

“Well you never know. Life may surprise you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, because i'm rewriting the outline, if anyone has any suggestions or things that they would like to see, maybe hmu? if i think the idea fits, i would be more than happy to incorporate it into the story.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> editing the outline has been a little bit messy so here's a weird mishmash of a few different chapters that i had to combine. i hope its not too confusing or boring !!

Genji had been in the best of moods all morning. Ever since his conversation with Zenyatta, that is. His description of the sentai had filled Genji with pride, and he realized now that seeking Zenyatta out had been more than worth it. Not only had he been stroking his ego, like Genji had first hoped, but he was also becoming a friend. There was something about him that just felt right. He was always so proper, which was something Genji usually didn’t like in friends, but at times he seemed to be a little snarky. Making comments here and there, similar to how he’d reacted when Genji fed him the lie about cutting his hand on the knife.

More exciting than any of that, though, was the idea that Genji could talk to him as the sentai. What would Zenyatta even say to him? He really wanted to know.

This thought was cut short by the sound of his door sliding open, and then closing quietly. Genji sat up in bed, and to his surprise, Hanzo was standing there. It was the first time he had seen him out of bed since he had become wounded. Dread filled him as he wondered what his brothers visit could mean.

“You have been avoiding me, Genji.” Hanzo approached the bed, sitting at the edge and turning face his younger brother. The way he walked seemed painful, and he could tell that he was trying not to limp. “Do you have something to hide?”

“What? No. And I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve just been… busy.” Genji knew immediately that he had used the wrong choice of words. Hanzo’s brow furrowed and he frowned.

“Busy doing what, exactly? Other than drinking and taking advantage of young men and women?” His frustration was evident in his voice, and Genji may have even detected a hint of disappointment. Had Hanzo been disappointed that he hadn’t visited him often? Surely not. It wasn’t like him.

“I…” Genji trailed off there. Hanzo wasn’t wrong. He had been doing that… among other things, that he could not mention to him.

Before Genji really had time to react, Hanzo had snatched his wrists. Panic filled him, and he fought briefly to free himself. His flailing did nothing to stop Hanzo, who pried open his hand, tearing off one of his fingerless gloves and revealing the gauze beneath. He deftly undid the wrapping. Genji stopped squirming then and just watched as his brother stared at the gash, his own heart pounded.

Neither of them spoke for a while, until Hanzo finally released his brother’s hand. He stood, pacing painfully across Genji’s room. The slight limp seemed more obvious now, as he wasn’t trying to hide it. He didn’t think he’d ever seen his brother so distraught.

“So… it’s over, then.” Genji stared at his wound, brushing his fingers across the scabbed surface.

“It had better be,” Hanzo snapped. His anger seemed to fizzle away immediately, and he continued his worried pacing.

“You are going to tell father.” Genji’s voice was soft. For once, he didn’t feel like getting into a screaming match with Hanzo. Especially not about this.

“What am I supposed to do? Allow you to continue this? At first, I believed that you were giving away information. This is worse than I could have imagined.” Hanzo paused. “Why are you doing this? Do you truly hate the family this much?”

“Do you know how to shut up?” Genji clamped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Stop acting like a child!” Hanzo strode over to him, wrenching one hand away from his face. “Maybe if you would grow up, begin acting your age, we would not be in this mess. Do you even see yourself? Dressing up in costumes and carrying out all of your naive ideas. You are a disgrace.”

“I’m naive? How long will you pretend that what our family stands for is justifiable? You have an idea of honor, but what about this is honorable? Weapons dealing? Perhaps war is noble in your ancient ideals, but how many people lose their lives so that we can make a penny? That’s what this is really about, and you pretend not to notice. So don’t you dare call me naive.” Genji spoke aggressively, but without raising his voice. He couldn’t risk one of the servants overhearing. His emotions were definitely getting the best of him. He cared deeply for Hanzo and his father, and to be accused of hating them put him on edge. Why couldn’t Hanzo see it?

The eldest brother sneered at Genji’s statement, but was silent for a while. He seemed conflicted and in a great deal of distress. Again, Genji had never seen him like this before.

“Listen. I will not tell father. This time. But this is your last chance to make things right. Get rid of that ridiculous suit, and perhaps we can end this peacefully.” He stressed the last word, and a shiver ran up Genji’s spine. What would Hanzo do otherwise?

“Please get out,” Genji hissed. Hanzo apparently didn’t need to be told twice. He left quickly, slamming the door behind him.

For a while Genji sat in place. His mind felt fuzzy, and he couldn’t quite comprehend what had just happened. Hanzo knew now. He’d probably known for a while, and just hadn’t had the evidence. Genji probably should have expected this, especially with his wound. There was no way he could have hidden that from his brother forever.

His chest felt tight. He was angry and panicked, and grieving too. His relationship with Hanzo was in tatters. He couldnt think of anything that would fix what had just happened between them.

At that moment, he just felt like he needed to get out of there.

 

* * *

 

A week passed, and then another.

The heat got worse, if only slightly. Zenyatta invested in a few portable fans, and scattered them around his loft. Most days were spent sitting on the floor with his back to one of them, doing homework and filling out paperwork. Often he would have appointments at the school, and he was grateful for the quiet, air conditioned building. There was no street noise or the whirring of several fans. Just quiet, and music. It reminded him more of home than anything, and he spent quite a bit of time there.

When he wasn’t doing this, he was lounging around or spending time with Genji. Over the past two weeks they had been spending quite a bit of time together. Going to lunch, walking, attending yoga classes together. His company had been... comforting. It felt like he was getting one of his first close friends in Japan. At least, Zen considered Genji a close friend. He wasn’t sure if he felt the same way.

Despite how things seemed to be looking up in that way, Zenyatta did have his worries. The sentai hadn’t been seen in over two weeks. Keeping up with the hero’s activities had been a great source of joy for him, but he had suddenly vanished. He tried not to concern himself too much with the disappearance, as his heart ached if he imagined scenarios that could have caused it. The rational side of him knew that it was probably some rich man playing hero, and as soon as he got bored he quit. Another side of him, a new side, felt disappointed. Heartbroken, maybe. He couldn’t stop remembering the night that he had been rescued. He wanted to believe that the sentai really was a good person. He felt jittery at the idea of ever being able to speak with him.

His thoughts were interrupted as a secretary entered his room. He was still at the school, and he had been reorganizing after his last patient. He must have lost track of time.

“One last appointment tonight. You’ve been busy today.” She laughed and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“The work does not bother me. I enjoy staying busy.” He returned the smile as he fixed the sheets on the table.

“Well, this should be a treat. Genji Shimada is in the waiting room.” Her excitement was evident as she passed Zenyatta his paperwork. The school was far from his usual stomping grounds, but he was well known all throughout the city.

“Oh. I forgot that he was coming today.” Zenyatta felt at ease knowing his good friend was going to be his last appointment. Maybe, if Genji wasn’t busy, they could chat for a while afterwards. Though it was getting a bit late and he would understand if he wanted to go straight home.

“He asked for you specifically. That’s a good sign! Like… you know he likes boys too. Just saying. Maybe you could get a little attention from him.” She winked, and Zenyatta felt his face flush. More from embarrassment than anything else.

“We know each other, actually. We’re friends. I hardly think that would be appropriate.” Zenyatta stepped by her and out into the hall. Still, this information came as a surprise when it shouldn’t have. It really wasn’t any of Zenyatta’s business, but it made his heart beat fast. It really, really, should not have.

He exited the hallway and into the waiting room with the woman behind him.

“Hello Genji.” Zenyatta greeted him softly, and Genji looked up from his magazine with a smile.

“Hi Zenyatta.” He stood, briefly hugging his friend. Zenyatta was not exactly touchy feely, so this came as a bit of a surprise to him.

As they parted, he motioned to the hall. “Come with me. I just finished preparing the room.” The two walked side by side as Zenyatta led him into his room. The lighting inside had been dimmed considerably, and gentle music overlapped with the sound of rainfall through a speaker beneath the table.

Zenyatta glanced briefly at the paperwork that the secretary had provided him with. After skimming it, he noticed that his friend was gazing at him expectantly.

Clearing his throat, Zenyatta added, “you have been experiencing pain in your shoulders, neck, and back?” He double checked the page to be sure, and made a mental note. Genji had listed those areas with quite a high pain rating.

“Yeah. My mid back especially.” Genji nodded as he spoke.

“Alright. Well, dress down to where you are comfortable and lay down here. I will be back in five minutes or so.” Zenyatta headed for the door, but Genji was already stripping before he had even made it out.

\--

“That wasn’t relaxing at all… ow?” Genji sat at the edge of the table, stretching his arms above his head.

“Well, you were in terrible shape. I cannot imagine what kind of stress your body must be under to warrant that. So, I apologize if it was rough. You will feel better after this, though there was too much damage to revert with just one session.” Zenyatta had leaned against the wall, and was cleaning the oil from his hands with a spare rag. It was no wonder Genji was having trouble with pain. His muscles were riddled with knots, all through his shoulders and back. It had surprised him, actually.

“Maybe I’ll be back, then. Damn, that hurt though.” Genji laughed and got to his feet.

“Sometimes it needs to hurt before it can begin to feel better.” Zenyatta, too, let out a soft chuckle. “You should treat your body better, nonetheless.”

“Sure, I will definitely do that.” The sarcasm was evident in his voice.

“Well, I think the staff here would love to see you back. The secretaries were quite excited when you arrived.” Zenyatta tossed the dirtied rag into a bin and stood.

“I get that a lot. I guess I’m a bit of a ladies’ man.” He sounded so full of himself that Zenyatta nearly rolled his eyes. Though, that definitely would have been inappropriate.

“I do not doubt it. They seem to fawn over you quite excessively.”

“Jealous?” Genji stepped to open the door for Zenyatta, who whispered a thanks and stepped through.

“Hardly.” The two friends walked side by side down the hall. Zenyatta took a moment to say goodbye to the closing staff, and then they left.

“Where is your car? I can walk you to it.” Zenyatta glanced around the parking lot for any vehicle that looked expensive. Nothing really jumped out at him.

“I rode the bus here, actually.” Genji laughed uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah. Well, perhaps we can ride the bus together for a while. I know it has not been long since we saw each other last, but I enjoy your company.” Zenyatta glanced at his friend from the corner of his eye as they continued walking in the direction of the bus stop.

“Yeah.” A pause. “You know… it’s getting dark. Maybe I could ride home with you? To make sure you’re safe.” Genji stared at his feet as he suggested this.

Zenyatta took a moment to think it over, but did nod eventually. “If you would like to. However, I insist that you stay the night in that case. If either of us is more likely to be attacked, it would be you.” To him, this only seemed fair. He would worry about Genji traveling all the way back to the estate unprotected.

“Oh! That would be great. I have never seen your house from the inside.” Genji seemed quite pleased with the idea.

“Well, I do not think it could compare to your mansion, but it is safe.” While the modest accommodations may suit Zenyatta’s lifestyle perfectly, he wasn’t sure Genji would feel the same. At least, not anyone who was used to or expected luxury. Zenyatta was not exactly rich.

“Most places don’t. That’s what makes them charming, though. Usually, I would rather not be reminded of home. I suppose that’s why I’m always out and about.” That comment sparked some interest in Zenyatta. Was his family life less than ideal? He wouldn’t doubt it. Genji was such a free spirit, and a businessman’s lifestyle hardly suited him.

“Then perhaps you will feel comfortable in my home after all.” They approached the bus stop then, taking a seat instead at the bench and waiting patiently. Zenyatta held his bag in his lap, a habit he picked up very quickly in Hanamura.

The bus came several minutes later, and the ride through the next few stops was pretty quiet. Their exhaustion may have just been hitting them, or maybe the quiet was just too peaceful to disturb. They were comfortable just being in each other’s presence.

Their stop let them off just down the street from Zenyatta’s apartment. Genji gazed up at the loft window as his friend worked to unlock the battered old door. Then together, they climbed the stairs and into the loft space. Zenyatta’s room was the first on the right, and they entered it quietly.

The heat in the loft hit them right away. Zenyatta scrambled around, turning on all of the fans and shifting their position towards the seating area. He barely had time to look up, but Genji seemed more intrigued than off-put by his living space.

“If you feel hungry at any point, there is food in the refrigerator.” Zenyatta drew the curtains across the long window beside his bed. It was one of the nicest features of his apartment.

“You may also take the bed. I sleep in the chair often enough anyway.” Zenyatta his things down on the kitchen counter, rolling his shoulders.

“We can’t share?” Genji asked with a laugh. Zenyatta couldn’t tell if it was intended as a joke or not, so he shrugged it off.

“If you would like to move any of the fans at any point, do feel free to do so. The air conditioning is broken.” Zen took a seat in his chair, and Genji took some time to wander around. He checked the fridge and then meandered over to the window, where he looked out into the street below for several moments.

“Even though it’s hot as hell, I like it here. It feels… comfortable.” Genji sat down on the bed, feeling the covers with one hand.

“I would not have guessed you would like it. It is very… humble, for the lack of a better word.” Zenyatta let out an amused snort.

“Maybe it’s because I’m here with a good friend, then.” Genji offered Zenyatta a sincere smile. He really wasn’t sure what to say in response, but the feeling was painfully mutual. Genji did seem like he belonged there. Not aesthetically though, for sure.

They sat in silence for a while, enjoying the quiet. Of course there was the sound of nearby traffic and the humming of the fans, but suddenly it wasn’t as annoying as usual.

Genji flopped back on the bed when he noticed a newspaper on the bedside table. “Woah… you still buy these? I thought everyone watched the news on their devices.” He plucked the paper from the table and stared at the page it had been folded open to.

“Hm. I lived without social devices most of my life. I am still learning how to use them, so I figure I could spend extra on a paper now and then. I also use them to practice reading, and I like to make notes on the paper.” The two newsworthy events that he was interested in were often documented in the physical paper anyway. Anything to do with Mondatta and the Shambali, as well as local news about the sentai. The page that Genji was skimming had to do with the sentai’s disappearance. His expression seemed somber.

“You have been following news of the sentai?” Genji asked, casting a glance at Zenyatta.

He nodded. “Closely. It worries me that he has not returned. I… have been thinking about him a lot lately. It is hard not to.” Zenyatta toyed with the edge of his shirt. He didn’t know how much he could reveal to Genji without appearing strange. Sometimes he even laughed at his own feelings, realizing how ridiculous they were.

“I… only met him once, sure… but there is something alluring about him. Perhaps it is the idea of a hero that is appealing to me, but seeing news of him fills me with relief, and when I do not I begin to worry. That is quite unusual for me, to say the least.” He paused again to fiddle with the end of his shirt. “If I knew him personally, it would probably not effect me this way.”

This was met with silence, and Zenyatta began to think that Genji probably thought he was as silly as he felt.

“That’s understandable.” Genji set the paper back in its place and sat up, stretching his arms above his head. “And uh… thank you again for letting me stay here Zenyatta.” He laid back on the bed, resting his head against the pillow.

“Of course.” Zenyatta spoke softly, watching his friend through half lidded eyes. They were both tired, and that much was obvious. He would try and let Genji sleep then, without too much conversation to keep him awake. He got up one last time to turn out the light, and whispered a quiet goodnight to his friend.


End file.
